The colors of fall seem ever more striking this year. Each tree possesses a spectrum of green, yellow, orange, red, maroon, brown and everything in between. I used to think trees were just one color. When I began taking a watercolor painting class, that all changed. My view of nature has expanded in the most amazing way. Now when I look around, I see color, texture, depth and form in all things. I’m not just learning to paint, I’m changing my perception of the world around me.

Many adults are blocked and think “I’m just not creative.” I’ve come to realize we are all creative beings. We started out that way. However in our growing years at school, those inclinations got crushed. You were told, you’re not doing ___ right, color inside the lines, rewrite your rough draft (til it is not your work anymore), that looks tacky, you’re off tune, you have to be perfect, etc. etc. etc. Those words were repeated endlessly. Our creative boundaries moved progressively inward until we felt so self-defeated that it was no longer worth the effort.

This season, give yourself permission to expand your thinking by delving into creative pursuits. The coming holidays offer plentiful opportunities to reignite creativity: arts and crafts, writing, cooking, decorating, dancing, singing, playing music, or whatever else you can imagine. I heard a saying that I often repeat, “The world is the realm of infinite possibilities.” Whatever you can imagine, you can create. As well as a creative axiom, this is a mantra for living life. Let your thoughts and creativity flow unharnessed. It may sound scary at first, but allow yourself to try it. The creative results will be satisfying, and the things you discover about yourself in the process may be positively life-altering.

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  1. russ mackay says:

    The colors in my fall tree are placed symetrically. The brown sponge paint cubes to the right. Golden to the left. The yellow little squares are floating around the outside. I loved my painting when I finished it but soon noticed that all the paintings of my classmates had their sponge paint cube colors scattered throughout their fall tree and I realized how real theirs looked and mine suddenly became very different and therefore wrong, and I became sad, and this is scary, and what am I goona do. Heading up the isle to share my art with the teacher I still loved my painting. I decided I wasn’t gonna care what she said. I also remember that was one of the first times I felt confident about anything. She loved my painting. I then, loved the moment. That was about fourty years ago and that very painting is hanging in my dinning room to this day. I still love it. I still love those moments. Crtitiques still welcome.

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